“Why not?” Her breath held in the back of her throat as she waited for his answer.
He struggled for words. And when he found them, they shattered her world. “Because I owe you.”
She closed her eyes against the pain, then immediately opened them. Nothing to do about the fact they were overly bright. Forcing a smile, she began backing away, suddenly in full retreat.
“Wrong answer. Ah...huh.” She cleared her throat. “But it’s all good. An honest answer is never really wrong, is it?”
“Wait.” He grabbed her hands and held on. “It is if it makes you leave. What did I do wrong?”
“For a smart man you can get some silly ideas. You don’t owe me anything. I helped you because I wanted to, not for what I could get out of the experience.”
“No.” Shock rolled over his face. “I didn’t mean that. You know I don’t believe that. I want you to stay. We’re good together.”
“Oh, Jackson. We are good together, but we’re nothing alike. I want roots, you want room service. I’m boots and jeans and you’re a tuxedo and Italian leather. I need goals, schedules and order. You’re spontaneous, creative and thrive in chaos. We are good together, too good. Which is why I can’t stay. You think a few weeks together will allow you to work this attraction out of your system. But a few weeks together will only make it harder for me to go. Because it’s more than chemistry for me. I love you.”
He stopped his pursuit of her so suddenly he rocked on his heels. “Huh?” Wide-eyed, he stared at her, apparently stunned stupid.
Now there was the reaction a girl wanted when she revealed her love. Proof she was right to leave. Never again would she settle for less than love. And she wanted more than the emotion, she wanted the words and dedication that proclaimed she was valued above all else.
“Don’t worry about it.” She squeezed the words past the constriction in her throat, the pain in her heart. “My problem, not yours.” Time to go. Her purse, she began a frantic search with her eyes. She needed her purse. “Listen, I want to thank you. This wasn’t all one-sided. I learned a lot in the time we spent together.” About herself, about a world she had no place in. “I met some really great people.” She met his gaze straight on, because she wasn’t a coward. “And a wonderful man.”
She crossed to where he was still stuck in the middle of the room. “I’ve loved my time with you. I’ll cherish it forever. Best it ends before it turns into something we both regret.” She kissed him softly on the mouth. “Have a happy life.”
* * *
“Sir,” Jethro’s assistant interrupted his meeting with Ryan, Clay and Sierra. “The manager of the hotel just called to say security has been dispatched to the owner’s suite. There are sounds of destruction and breaking glass.”
Clay’s phone beeped as they all pushed to their feet. He met Jethro’s gaze as they went through the door together. “Where’s Hawke? He’s alone? Are you sure? Where’s Ms. Delaney?” The group stepped onto the executive elevator. “Okay, I’m on my way. Knock. If he doesn’t answer, go in. If he’s unhurt, I want you to pull back and wait for me.”
“What’s going on?” Jethro demanded. “Sounds like Jackson is trashing his suite.”
“Where’s Grace?” Sierra asked.
“She took a taxi to the airport twenty minutes ago.”
“Okay, guys, that’s not a coincidence.”
“Come on, Sierra.” Ryan shook his head. “It’s not like Jackson to freak out over a woman.”
“His relationship with Grace has been un-Jackson-like from the beginning.”
“True,” Jethro acknowledged as the elevator doors opened on the hallway outside Jackson’s suite. Four security officers stood at the ready guarding the open door.
“Mr. Hawke is alone, sir,” the head officer reported. “The room is trashed but he appears unharmed.”
Clay nodded. “The four of you can go.”
A crash came from inside the suite, followed by a foul curse.
“It’s best if I go in alone,” Jethro stated. The others nodded and he braved the threshold.
In the living room Jackson stood with hands on hips silhouetted against the Las Vegas skyline. Slices of fruits and vegetables were scattered at his feet amid shattered glass. Behind him the room looked as if a tornado had swept through—the coffee table was upended, furnishings were askew and the bar reeked of alcohol from broken bottles.
“You’ve made quite a mess here, buddy.” Jethro joined Jackson at the window and, like him, stared out over the city. “Feel better?”
“No.”
“Want to tell me what happened?”
“Grace left.” Two words, devastating impact.
“I heard.”
“I asked her to stay, to be with me.”
“You proposed?”
Jackson heard the shock in Jethro’s voice. Right. Why would he even go there? “No. I offered her a job.”
“Oh.”
“She said she loved me.” The truth of that still rocked him.
“Ah.”
He turned to stare at his friend’s profile. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. What did you say?”
Nothing. He’d frozen. Too surprised and confused by the declaration to act. Ever since he’d regained his memories, he felt out of sync, as if he was a round peg trying to fit in a square hole. He cherished what he had with Grace, but it was so far from who he was he didn’t know how to reconcile JD with Jackson. Except to know he wasn’t ready to let her go.
“She left. Why do the people I care about always leave?”
“At least you’ve known love, Jackson. My mom threw me in a dumpster.”
That shocked Jackson from his fugue to focus on his friend. “Good Lord, Jethro, I never knew.”
“Yeah, I don’t share the fact my mom considered me trash very often. But for you I feel the need.” He turned to face Jackson. “Not everyone leaves. Clay, Ryan and I are still here. You’re my family, our family. We’ll always have your back. The women in your life haven’t left voluntarily. Your mom and Mama Harman died. And you knew when you started with Lilly how it would turn out. She was a year older than you, and there’s no give in the foster world. Eighteen and you’re out.”
Jackson wanted to argue it hurt just the same, but his mother had loved him. He remembered her hugs, her laughter, how she had listened to him and read to him. Somehow he’d allowed the sadness of losing her to overshadow the love. The same with Mama Harman and Lilly.
But when placed against the stark knowledge of Jethro’s experience he got some perspective. Maybe his recent experience allowed him to be more open to the truth. Grace’s influence softened him, allowing him to trust again. He had been lucky to have love in his life. Still, the pattern was too entrenched in him to be easily shifted.
“Dude, you know I look on you as a brother. And you might be right about the rest, but Grace left.” The admission cut deep.
“Did she?”
“She’s not here, is she?”
“Jackson, Grace didn’t leave you. She turned down a job offer.”
“She knew I wanted her to stay.”
“But did you give her a reason to stay? I’ve never seen you with anyone like you are with Grace. You’ve been different since you’ve been back. Happier. She’s been good for you.”
No denying that. From the moment he’d opened his eyes in a jail cell, alone and unknowing, to the long, duty-bound night of the gala when she’d stood by his side supporting and encouraging him. Her determination, intelligence and loyalty grounded him during a difficult time. Without her he’d have been lost.
Without her he would be lost.
“You’re saying don’t mess this up.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“I’m going to need a plant.”
* * *
The two-hour flight to San Francisco gave Grace plenty of time to suffer a few regrets. Pride sent her running, but had she flown from the o
nly man she’d ever love? Shouldn’t she have grabbed what time she could with him? He may not love her, but she knew he cared.
And that was the problem. Too often she’d accepted an inequitable relationship, even with her own father. This time she couldn’t do it. She loved him too much to compromise. Respected herself too much to trade her pride for a few months’ charade.
Doug had suggested Jackson might long for a home as much as she did, but the way he froze when she said she loved him shouted just the opposite.
No, she’d been smart to end it before her heart got more engaged.
Or so she thought until she walked into the garage at the San Francisco Pinnacle to find Jackson leaning against her SUV. Her traitorous heart rejoiced at the sight of him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I live in a tuxedo world, but I like jeans, too. If you remember, that’s what I was wearing when we met.”
She blinked at him. “Seriously? That’s what you want to say to me?”
“Yes. I run a billion-dollar organization.” He blocked her when she tried to walk around him. “Believe me, I value organization as much as I do creativity.”
“Jackson, this is futile.”
“I’m not going to apologize for the room service. I’m sure you’ll come to appreciate it.”
“Doubtful, since we won’t be together.” She tried again to get around him, shutting her ears to his sensible arguments. She’d made up her mind. Again he blocked her.
“I’m not giving up on you, Grace.”
“I’m sure there are any number of people able to play cyber cop for you.”
He flinched. “I deserve that. But give a guy a break. I’ve had a lot to assimilate the last couple of days, and I’m told a concussion can cause confusion and disorientation.”
“You keep throwing my words back at me.” Why did he persist in doing this? She didn’t know if she had the strength to say no a second time.
“What can I say? You’re a smart woman.”
“You’re not making any points here.”
The elevator dinged and a couple stepped out. They whispered to each other and laughed as they passed. It was a vivid reminder of everything Grace wanted. And Jackson didn’t.
“I’m tired, Jackson. I really don’t want to do this again.” She deserved to be loved. Unless he had three little words to say, she didn’t want to hear it.
“I could also point out that I don’t trust easily, yet I invited you into my inner sanctum. I haven’t done that in ten years.”
She blinked again, the impact of his statement catching her unawares. She’d been so upset by the offer she hadn’t seen it from his side, hadn’t acknowledged the import of it. Still, nothing had changed. He’d offered her a job when she longed for so much more.
“Jackson—”
He placed a finger over her lips. “We agree we’re good together. We can work out any differences, explore them, exploit them, rejoice in them.”
“You’re going to a lot of trouble to recruit a new employee.”
“Forget the job.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “It’s yours if you want it, but I’m talking a lifetime commitment. I need you in my life. The job was my way of keeping you with me. But I have a better way.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed something off the hood of the SUV and presented it to her.
She stared at the plant, a charming little houseplant, some kind of ivy if she wasn’t mistaken. “What’s this?”
“The first plant for our new home.” There was just the slightest shake to his voice. “I want to put down roots with you, Grace Delaney.” No shake now. “In Las Vegas, or San Francisco if you want to pursue the position with the FBI. Wherever you want, as long as we’re together.”
“I think I’m going to start my own business as a private security consultant specializing in profiles and some private investigations. Including you, I’ve already had four clients. And I found your father.”
“My father?” He looked perplexed, then laughed. “That’s wonderful.” He framed her face. “You’re wonderful. Will you marry me?”
This time she blinked back tears. The words were right, the gesture perfect. Dare she hope? For so long she’d believed home was associated with a person. It was how she grew up moving from base to base with her father. But as an adult that never proved true, so she thought she could find home in a place. With his words she realized home followed the heart, and she hadn’t found it because she hadn’t found the right man. Until Jackson.
But it would only work if he felt the same.
“Why?” she whispered, too afraid to hope.
“Oh, baby.” He took the plant and set it aside before pulling her into his arms. He tilted her chin until their gazes met. “Because I was happier staying with you in an economy hotel and having no money than I’ve ever been as a billionaire. Because you get me. Because I trust you. But most of all, because I love you.”
Joy burst through her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love in her heart. He immediately deepened the kiss with an urgency and passion that echoed her emotions. When he lifted his head, she grinned up at him.
“Right answer.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“That means yes.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HIRED BY THE BROODING BILLIONAIRE by Kandy Shepherd.
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Hired by the Brooding Billionaire
by Kandy Shepherd
CHAPTER ONE
SHELLEY FAIRHILL HAD walked by the grand old mansion on Bellevue Street at least twenty times before she finally screwed up enough courage to press the old-fashioned buzzer embedded in the sandstone gatepost. Even then, with her hand on the ornate wrought-iron gate, she quailed before pushing it open.
The early twentieth-century house was handsome with peaked roofs and an ornate turret but it was almost overwhelmed by the voracious growth of a once beautiful garden gone wild. It distressed her horticulturalist’s heart to see the out-of-control roses, plants stunted and starved of light by rampant vines, and unpruned shrubs grown unchecked into trees.
This was Sydney on a bright winter’s afternoon with shafts of sunlight slanting through the undergrowth but there was an element of eeriness to the house, of secrets undisturbed.
In spite of the sunlight, Shelley shivered. But she had to do this.
It wasn’t just that she was looking for extra work—somehow she had felt compelled by this garden since the day she’d first become aware of it when she’d got lost on her way to the railway station.
The buzzer sounded and the gate clicked a release. She pushed it open with a less than steady hand. Over the last weeks, as she’d walked past the house in the posh inner-eastern suburb of Darling Point, she’d wondered about who lived there. Her imagination had gifted her visions of a broken-hearted old woman who had locked herself away from the world when her fiancé had been killed at war. Or a crabby, Scrooge-like old man cut off from all who loved him.
The reality of the person who opened the door to her was so different her throat tightened and the professional words of greeting she had rehearsed froze unsaid.
Her reaction wasn’t just because the man who filled the doorframe with his impressive height and broad should
ers was young—around thirty, she guessed. Not much older than her, in fact. It was because he was so heart-stoppingly good-looking.
A guy this hot, this movie-star handsome, with his black hair, chiselled face and deep blue eyes, hadn’t entered into her imaginings for a single second. Yes, he seemed dark and forbidding—but not in the haunted-house way she had expected.
His hair lacked recent acquaintance with a comb, his jaw was two days shy of a razor and his black roll-neck sweater and sweatpants looked as though he’d slept in them. The effect was extraordinarily attractive in a don’t-give-a-damn kind of way. His dark scowl was what made him seem intimidating.
She cleared her throat to free her voice but he spoke before she got a chance to open her mouth.
‘Where’s the parcel?’ His voice was deep, his tone abrupt.
‘Wh-what parcel?’ she stuttered.
He frowned. ‘The motherboard.’
She stared blankly at him.
He shook his head impatiently, gestured with his hands. ‘Computer parts. The delivery I was expecting.’
Shelley was so shocked at his abrupt tone, she glanced down at her empty hands as if expecting a parcel to materialise. Which was crazy insane.
‘You...you think I’m a courier?’ she stuttered.
‘Obviously,’ he said. She didn’t like the edge of sarcasm to the word.
But she supposed her uniform of khaki trousers, industrial boots and a shirt embroidered with the logo of the garden design company she worked for could be misconstrued as courier garb.
‘I’m not a courier. I—’
‘I wouldn’t have let you in the gate if I’d known that,’ he said. ‘Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.’
Shelley was taken aback by his rudeness. But she refused to let herself get flustered. A cranky old man or eccentric old woman might have given her worse.
‘I’m not selling anything. Well, except myself.’ That didn’t sound right. ‘I’m a horticulturalist.’ She indicated the garden with a wave of her hand. ‘You obviously need a gardener. I’m offering my services.’
He frowned again. ‘I don’t need a gardener. I like the place exactly as it is.’
His Unforgettable Fiancée Page 17
